Tales and legends of smoky drams, mystical peats and seducing waters. I blog in English and Finnish from now on.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

The tale of the Port Charlotte King Tro Na Linntean

Heavy shield and the peat have carried forward and backward in time’s endless turn. Old ones used to tell the story of the ancient King called Tro Na Linntean by his enemies. He was of the same age, only 10 bruichcycles old. But his tongue, it was filled with wit and it was sharpened to slip hair. With it, one sweep could bite off unwanted visitor’s ear ten paces away. Born in a long and proud lineage, elder brothers and sisters all gained glory, victories and name for themselves. This young King could not be any lesser than those already passed away and carven in the walls of history. And he did created a name for his honor. Never to be forgotten. You only have to whisper it, and it will echo through your ears like a massive sound of gargantuan brass bell. Shaking the foundation and waking up the peat beneath your feet. Such is the power and the feeling.

Elder brother, An Ataireachd Ard, was a sorcerer and lord combined. Mighty in power, but dwelled more in the peat than in the fields of open fire. Powerful was his spell and art, complex was his mind. These two brothers, they are like from different realms of existence linked by only a few cords of life. That link was forged to last, and to strike back even after the vessel of their essence was emptied of Beatha.

They yet don’t know it, but one day a offspring, the Peat Project, will emerge from their forges of wild mind, as they set the wheels of the future into unstoppable motion.